Christmas with the Billionaire_A Sexy Billionaire Christmas Romance by Emma Lea

Author:Emma Lea [Lea, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A Sexy Billionaire Christmas Romance
Published: 2018-11-17T18:30:00+00:00

16

“Tell me about these markets,” Blake said as he guided the car into a car park as directed by the local Lion’s Club parking attendant.

They’d paid their two dollars at the entrance to the soccer field and joined the hundreds of other cars that packed the paddock. The sun was sinking slowly below the horizon and throwing hot pink and orange across the sky.

“The Annual Hope Springs Christmas Eve Eve Markets are a tradition.”

“Eve, eve?” he asked, looking at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“The night before Christmas eve,” she replied with a grin.

Blake slung his arm around her and pulled her into his side. They followed the rest of the crowd toward the main street. The roads had been closed off and market tents and food trucks set up in the centre square. The area teemed with people and the air was filled with the sounds of laughter, the strains of Christmas music from the school band, and the smell of fast food.

“And the markets? Who sells what?”

“Well, you’ve got your usual jams, marmalades and lemon butters from the CWA ladies,” Zoë said. “And then there’s the bake off.”

“Bake off?”

“The unofficial baking competition that is hotly contested every year. Haven’t you noticed Mum and the Aunties cooking up a storm over the last few days?”

“I thought that was just to feed the troops,” he replied.

“They’re determined to sell out before Millie Butler this year. She’s pipped them at the post the last two years.”

Blake laughed and she whacked him in the gut. “It’s not funny. These women take it seriously.”

“I suppose the extra cash comes in handy for feeding your family over Christmas,” Blake said.

“They don’t keep the money,” Zoë said, looking up at him. “It’s all for charity.”

“All the stalls give their proceeds to charity?”

“Not all of them. They pay a fee to set up a stall and then they’re free to do whatever they like with the money they make. The stall fee goes to the Lion’s Club. Some of the stalls, like Mum’s, choose to give their proceeds to charity. This year I think it’s Sixty-Five Roses.”

“What’s that?”

“A charity that raises money for research and programs to extend and improve the quality of life for cystic fibrosis sufferers.”

He tugged her a little closer and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you know someone with CF?” he asked.

“Knew,” she said, with a sigh, leaning her head against his shoulder. “One of my school friends. She died a couple of years ago.”

He stopped and pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She tightened her arms around him and he felt her body shudder. Using a finger, he tipped her head up to his and searched her eyes. There were no tears, but he could tell talking about her friend made her sad. He dropped a kiss on her lips, wanting to ease her pain and knowing there was nothing he could do.

She squeezed him tight for a moment and then stepped back, looking up at him with a small smile.

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